The Picnic
by januaryfreeze92
Summary: Based on the 1990 Charles Dance Version - how the picnic should have gone. You can see the version on youtube, this story can be compatible with other Phantom versions, but mostly to the 1990 one. EC Fluffy.


**Hi, guys. I'm watching the Charles Dance version of phantom at the mo (You can tell because I just released Stay With Me? a little while ago...) anywho, I found another spot that I am going to change to end up fluffy. **

**The picnic scene! le gasp**

The Picnic 

"Your mother saw your face and smiled. If love could let her gaze at you and smile, could love not do the same for me?" I asked him, looking up at him beseechingly. He seemed so unsure of himself as he stumbled for words, gazing down, trying to think. I grasped his hands in an attempt to relax him and tried to convey through my eyes how much I was starting to adore him.

His golden eyes looked at me, his golden, pleading eyes that both threaten and adore stared out at me from behind the cold porcelain that hid him from me. No matter who he was it wouldn't matter. He could be the king of England or the king of Thieves, I would still admire him.

With decision, he took his hands out of mine and started undoing the ties to his mask. Instead of setting my mouth in a straight line as I almost did, I smiled at him supportingly and prepared myself for the worst.

I brought my two hands together in a silent prayer as he pulled the mask off his face. What I saw was the most horrible sight I could ever imagine. I could feel myself becoming dizzy and willed my diaphragm to breathe as he taught me to. Once I was okay, I looked and saw his eyes closed tightly, a look of pure pain and self-loathing covering his horrific features. I raised my hand to caress his face lovingly and he took a sharp intake of breath upon feeling my hand on his face. I rose my other one and traced the scars and disfigured tissue and realized that I felt no fear or disgust of him or his hideous face.

"_Erik," _I breathed.

He cringed and a tear rolled down my cheek. _What kind of life have you known?_

Slowly I lowered my face down to his. His eyes fluttered open, teary and awe-filled. Tenderly, I looked back in his, one hand still caressing his left cheek, the other wrapping gently behind his head. With my lips, I traced his forehead and he gasped. By the time I got to his cheeks they were wet. I was crying, too, with the sudden realization of how much he must have went through in his life. My left hand lowered itself to his chest as I drew myself closer and kissed the other cheek.

"Breathe, Erik," I whispered with a smile, in fear that he may pass out. My face was almost touching his and I looked up into his golden eyes, more beautiful than anything I have ever seen. He took a harsh intake of breath, opening his eyes once more to look up at me in teary gratitude. He started to weep and I held a finger to his lips. "Shh," I said. Without hesitation, I brought my lips down onto his.

The kiss wasn't passionate as Phillipe's was, but I felt fire behind his lips and I kissed him multiple times, trailing them down his neck when I thought we may suffocate from kissing for too long.

"Oh, Christine," he said, the tears still streaming down his face.

I looked up at him, wiping away his tears. "Do I hurt you?" I asked, looking at his face and wondering if his deformed skin was pained.

"The complete opposite," he said breathless. "No lady should have to look upon this visage for this long," Erik said, picking up his mask.

"I care not about your face!" I exclaimed, caressing it once again to prove my point. "It is your heart that matters. And your beautiful mind, and your extraordinary voice. I love everything about you," I said, a blush warming my cheeks and I smiled up at him bashfully, taking the mask from his hands and setting it down behind me. He couldn't possibly look more awed and he wrapped his arms around me, forgetting his sense of shame.

"You have no clue how much I love you," he said, not daring to look at me.

I raised his chin, forcing him to look into my eyes. " I think I do," I said at a whisper and lowered my face to his once again.


End file.
